The Stone Lions (28 page)

Eyes fixed on her, he spoke to the guard, his
voice menacing, “Leave us. Two of you stand guard at the door. Let
no one enter or leave.” The guards cast a quick look at Tahirah,
who looked serenely back, and then they bowed out of the room.

“al-Rahmid,” Tahirah said once they were
alone. “Do not continue down this path.”

“Enough, woman!” He took three quick strides
across the room. But through the walls, a ghostly lion slithered,
and then another, until all twelve lions had entered. A low steady
growl came from them as they circled the room. Tahirah breathed a
sigh of relief. Though the wazir’s magic still held, it was
slipping. The lions no longer slept, and their presence gave her
confidence. She tapped the ground lightly with her foot. Her magic
spilled across the room, and the floor before her cracked and
glowed red-hot. The wazir came to a halt a pace away staring at the
fire and the lions.

“This is not well done, al-Rahmid. You forget
who I am. I know what you plan. It cannot be.” She pierced him with
her gaze. “The time has not yet come for the fall of Granada, and
you are not to be the agent of it. All you are doing is causing
pain and suffering, betraying those who trusted you. Turn from this
now. There is still hope for you.”

As he stood, flickers of flame inched toward
him, slowly circling round. The lions roared louder. Fear and pride
crossed his face. “This will not contain me for long. What are you
scheming?”

The door thundered with blows.

“Sitti
, Tahirah, are
you within?” Layla’s father, the Commander of the Army, called
out.

She looked steadfastly at al-Rahmid. “Choose
now, and choose carefully.”

His face contorting, he backed away. “I have
chosen. This day is mine!” He turned and strode quickly out the
easterly door.

Chapter 40

Ara carefully evaluated her work. The
creature dressed in a hijab stared back at her. One hoof, hidden in
the folds of material, lightly rested on Layla’s shoulder. “Walk
forward again and, this time, keep your tail tucked under. It looks
peculiar when it sticks out.”

Two eyes glared daggers at her. Layla started
forward with Suleiman clomping after. Ara sighed. “Can’t you be
more graceful? Don’t hunch over so much. You don’t walk much like a
girl.”

Layla muttered softly, “He doesn’t move like
anything human.”

Suleiman tucked his tail and tried to stand
upright. He snarled under his breath, and took two slow, tottering
steps. “This isn’t going to work. The guards will see right through
this.”

Ara grimaced. “It will have to do. At least
it’s near dark. Let’s go. Keep your head down. No one would believe
those eyes are human.”

They rounded the corner. A guard coming from
the other direction cried, “Halt, Sultan’s child. The wazir wishes
you brought to him.”

Ara gulped and forgot to breathe, her wits
too frightened to work. Just as she opened her mouth, hoping some
useful words would spill out, a small, shrouded figure prodded the
guards back with her cane.

“Since when do you take orders from Abd
al-Rahmid? And since when are women’s affairs any of his
never-mind?” Rabab, enshrouded in her dark brown hijab, stood her
ground while the three cohorts continued their unsteady progress
across the walk. Zoriah stood behind, her face hidden but her eyes
unwavering. Secure in her rights, her posture defied the guard to
harm the old woman.

“I…I…
Sitti
, I must,”
the guard stammered, shifting from foot to foot.

“You must!” Rabab said shaking a finger under
his nose. “
You
must mind your own business
and stay out of the harem’s affairs. Have you added bullying girls
to your work?”

The guard flinched before the hunched old
woman. “But, the wazir ordered me to bring—”

“And, in the sultan’s absence, I am ordering
you to go about your business,” Rabab retorted as the trio hurried
through the doorway. “No one who isn’t of the harem is to enter,”
she pointed out, “and no man has the right to meddle in our
affairs.” She placed herself in the doorway, blocking his view
after Ara, Layla and Suleiman entered. “Now, leave us in peace.”
Turning her back on him, she walked away. Zoriah firmly closed the
door on the gawking guard.

From the doorway, Ara saw a cluster of
children inspecting Suleiman. Hasan looked quizzically at the robed
goat, tilting his head to one side. Jada’s eyes dropped down to
Suleiman’s feet. Ara backed across the room and whispered to Layla
to disappear and meet her later. Too much attention was being given
to Suleiman, and Zoriah was sure to ask pointed questions.

Bam! bam! The great door shook. Zoriah called
the eunuch harem guards and directed them to the door.

As soon as they were in place, she crossed
the cool stone floor to stand before Ara. “What is going on?” Her
eyebrows formed a frowning V. “Where did Layla and the woman go?
Who is she?”

Still fuming, Rabab removed her hijab. Her
white hair was plaited tightly against her head, her mouth set in a
fierce line. “This is our place. Who does that guard think he is,
anyway?”

Zoriah was not to be distracted. “Ara, what
is going on here? Why does the wazir seek you?”

Ara silently prayed to Allah, the merciful.
“Please, Zoriah, you must help. This is no game. The wazir has set
Father up for an ambush. Even now, Tahirah is riding off to prevent
his capture. The Castilians are waiting in the mountains to attack.
You must alert the guards. Please, what I say is true,” Ara’s voice
choked, desperate to make Zoriah understand.

She turned white but her unblinking eyes
bored into Ara. “My husband rode south. Is it truly a trap?” She
gave Ara a doubtful look. “How would you know?”

Ara willed her to believe. “We heard the
Castilian soldiers speaking when we were hidden. Tahirah has the
written proof of the ambush plot.”

Zoriah nodded, no longer skeptical, and
moments later she and Rabab were organizing the women and eunuch
guards of the harem. Hasan was hurried off to roust the rest of the
harem.

Rabab turned to fuss over the exhausted girl.
“Where is Layla and…?” Her head tilted as if she were trying to
place the new woman.

“We’ve been hiding. They went to get food and
rest.”

Rabab gently held her for a moment. “This is
too great a burden for you. You too must get some rest. My dear,
you’re just a girl.” She looked at her with deep concern. “And one
nigh on to collapse. I know you’re worried for your father. Believe
me, all will be well. Your father is no one’s fool.”

She patted Ara’s cheek. “Now go. We have
everything under control. You have done your part. Tomorrow will
see no Castilians in the Alhambra.”

Ara breathed a sigh.
Inshallah
, her father would survive this night, and the
wazir’s treacheries would be exposed. Now she needed to find the
final symmetry. And hope that Suleiman would change back to
himself.

She raced through the harem, looking for
Layla. Time was flashing past. Rounding the corner at full tilt,
she careened over Suleiman and landed head first on the floor.

Suleiman, all angles, sat hunched against the
wall, well wrapped in the now foul-smelling and sweaty hijab.

“We found a glide with a vertical mirror,”
Layla said, pointing to a pattern low on the ground. “But it is
complete.”

Suleiman looked up, despair showing deep
within his triangular eyes. “The evening is upon us, little time is
left. We may need to face that this last task cannot be done.”

“We can’t fail now. The Alhambra mustn’t
fall.” Ara scanned the tiled ceiling that arched above her and
whispered, “And you must be returned to your original body.”

Both her friends seemed to gain hope from her
words. Layla pushed away from the wall. “Let’s start again.”

Ara nodded. “Where have you searched so
far?”

“Suleiman and I have been dodging guards and
women. This is all we’ve found.”

The trio thoroughly searched the room.
Example upon example of symmetries pranced across the walls, even
another glide rotation, but nowhere did they see a broken one. They
scurried from room to room, checking for people before they
entered. Ara was sure with each new room that the spell would be
broken. And in each room she noticed more and more tiny cracks in
the walls.

Time edged on. Bedtime had come and gone. The
girls, exhausted before, were now dragging.

They stopped to rest for what seemed only a
few quick breaths. “What if,” Layla said, “there is no broken glide
rotation in the harem?”

Ara slumped to the floor “No, it must be
here! At least one. We’re so close. That can’t be. It just
can’t.”

She forced herself to go to the kitchen and
grab some food. As she ran back to her friends, a guard standing
against the wall snapped to attention.

“Sultan’s child, a message came for you.”

Ara blinked hopefully. “A message? From my
father?”

“No, from the Sufi mathemagician. A messenger
handed this to the guard at the door. I have been looking for you
for some time.”

He handed her a small piece of parchment
sealed with wax. She ripped it open. The hastily scrawled message
almost shouted: “Meet me in the Court of the Lions by midnight,
before Isha’s prayer.

She looked up, confused. “Tahirah was here?
Did you see her?”

“No, child of the Alhambra. Her messenger
came and said it was important.” He coughed uneasily. “The slave,
Su’ah, did not know where you were. She is worried and scolding.
You should go there now.”

Ara looked again at the message, breathing a
sigh of relief. Tahirah was back. Or was she? Why would she not
come directly to them?

Could this be a trick, or was this the
solution?

Soon it would be midnight and their time
would be up. Would it be worth the danger to try? The Court of the
Lions was outside the doors of the Palace of the Myrtles. How were
they to get there without getting caught? All the guards were
alert. She frowned. When had Tahirah sent this message? And where
was she now?

“Please tell Su’ah that Layla and I are fine
and not to be angry with me. We will be in bed before she knows
it.”

After thanking the guard again, she returned
to Layla and Suleiman and made a decision. “We’re going to leave
the harem.”

Chapter 41

Torches flickered in the light breeze. The
slender, arched columns, so graceful during the day, looked
foreboding in the gloom of night. The moon was full and bright to
light their way but kept disappearing behind a veil of clouds.
Stars flickered as if in warning. Ara and Layla, with Suleiman
dragging behind, slunk into the courtyard. They jumped at every
sound. The lions were not at their places. The bare fountain looked
naked and exposed. Holding hands, the girls inched forward,
carefully skirting the central fountain and keeping inside the
shadow of the walls. Ara whispered in Layla ear. “This doesn’t feel
right. Where’s Tahirah?”

A body separated itself from one of the
columns. The wazir. He smiled and waved his hand. Dark, contorted
shapes poured forth in fits and starts. Magic rained on the three
companions, sealing all exits from the room and hobbling their
movements. The arched doorways were blocked by a thick, transparent
mucus that rippled and undulated.

“It’s over,” he said to Ara. “You’ve fallen
right into my trap. The game has ended. Did you think a child—a
girl child, at that—could best me?” He laughed, sneering at the now
visible golden-maned lions pacing the room, snarling and growling,
but unable to attack.

“The Alhambra’s lions cannot harm me. The
last spell holds.” He laughed again. “There is no broken glide with
a vertical mirror here. It’s well hidden and far, far away. There
will be no breaking the spell. Your tutor, Suleiman, will remain a
goat—a roasted goat perhaps—but a goat nevertheless. Even now, your
father is at the mercy of the Castilian King.” Abd al-Rahmid
laughed. “And you and your cousin…” He puffed himself up like a
rooster. “You will serve me well as my future wives. As a kindness
to you, you will remain in the Alhambra—under my protection. You
should be grateful for my leniency. I’m sure with discipline you
will learn to be good Muslim wives rather than palace brats.” He
looked at the goat. “And Suleiman, yours will be the blood that
seals the fate of the Alhambra and ends the magic forever.”

Layla looked to be too afraid for tears.
Suleiman’s head hung in defeat. All around them they could hear
cracking and groaning as the walls were pulled apart by the strain
of the wazir’s magic. A column broke in half, and Layla
cringed.

Rigid in terror and anger but unwilling to
give up, Ara glared at the wazir.